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Mr. Zukor talked on rapidly, without emphasis. His partner Jesse Lasky had snagged prima donna Geraldine Farrar for three pictures. For eight weeks' work — twenty thousand dollars. "More. We're renting a house for her, supplying her with servants and a motor car. We roll out the red carpet."
"For me too?"
He smiled at her as if she were a child. "Bright red carpet, big brass band."
Hadn't her father smiled at her that way ? She remembered him, tying a red sash at her waist, putting a velvet tarn on her curls and painting her picture — all the while smiling whimsically. Or maybe she'd dreamed it. Her father was a pretty vague memory. Anyhow, she liked Mr. Zukor and promised to think it over.
"I'd like to put you in a picture with Wallace Reid. You've certainly seen him?"
She shook her head.
"You haven't seen Birth of a 'Nation?"
She shook her head again. "I've only seen Mabel Normand. I like her. She's full of life."
"So are you," he said gently. "Think it over."
She didn't think of it at all.
"I saw Mr. Zukor, the man from the motion-picture company," she told Rudy. "Did you know Broadway stars are being signed for pictures? Why would anyone want to leave New York? I wouldn't."
Rudy agreed. Who would want to leave New York except for Paris ? He loved Paris, he dreamed of dancing at the Lido or the Cafe de Paris. He dreamed of many things — of painting, of writing, perhaps more of writing than of anything else, although he still didn't think in English but in Italian. But in his daydreams, he knew he wasn't always going to haul heavy old women around dance floors. The more he was seen dancing with Bonnie Glass, the more in demand Rudy was. He and Bonnie had appeared at a number of private parties; they were going to do another benefit, at Rector's this time, and
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